The Ballad of Suze Simon
by Moondancing Millie
Summary: Fed up of being the former pop sensation that was dropped from her label after her ex fiance, Paul, was found cheating with new chart topper Kelly Prescott, Suze is on a mission to expose Paul to the world, aided by the delectable Detective De Silva...
1. Chapter One

**A/N For those of you who are new to this story anyway, don't worry about this little author note. Its just a little heads-up. See, I wasn't happy with the previous chapters, so I've rewritten them - only a little editing. It will just help the story flow better. No reviews needed, I don't think you can re-review anyways, but a quick scan would be appreciated, as well as helpful to you readers.**

**Than**ks.

**Chapter** One

_Don't mistake it_

_I am breaking_

_There was no clue_

_No-one really knew_

_You were the monster haunting my dreams_

_Ripping my heart open at the seams_

_Don't mistake it_

_And I won't fake it_

**_"Don't Mistake It_**"

From the Album **_"Love Hurts"_**

Vocals by Susannah Simon

Song written by Slater/ Prescott

"I'm sure I recognise you. Have we met before?"

Once upon a time, there was a young girl. She spoke her mind, had a great voice, and wasn't a doormat. Until she met Rick Slater, that was, but that's a different story. Anyway, this girl, she was an artist recovering from having her heart stomped on. Twice.

Oh, and also trying to escape some creep trying to chat her up at the local bar.

You see, every guy recognises you, when he's hoping to get into your pants later that evening.

"No," I snapped, taking a drink of my own Cola. I was trying to get rid of the guy, not encourage him by accepting the Vodka he was handing me.

The guy frowned. "Well, should we get to know each other now?"

"No."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, give up for DJ Snaps, bringing you the hippest tunes tonight!"

I clapped my hands, my head hurting with boredom. What was the time now?

Lets see, I'd arrived at 8:30pm, as only a sad early- morning radio DJ who's bedtime should be at 7:00pm would, and I estimate I've been here about two hours. So that would make the time..

Half-ten?

You have got to be kidding me.

"Hey, guys and dolls!" Oh my God. DJ Snaps was one of those happy guys. Oh dear God. "Are ya'll ready to have a good time?"

Oh sure. I'll have a good time, spilling out of my Size 8 skinny jeans, refusing a vodka I really could do with downing right now. God, it was looking at me... staring with his icy eyes...

Pull yourself together, Simon. You're a twenty-five year old woman. Practice a little self-control.

"Your voice sounds familiar."

The guy was still at it. Hadn't he guessed by now that I was just wasn't interested?

"Have you been on the radio before? Are you one of those radio DJs?"

"Hm..." I said, pretending to really consider it. "Maybe... yes. Maybe that's where you remember me from."

Yes, Suze, let him think that your only claim to fame is being an early-morning DJ on Carbonated FM (easy listening for you Early Birds). Let him think you weren't at all a manufactured teen pop sensation torn apart by cold, cruel manufactured recording producers.

"To take us back to those days of our childhood," continued DJ Snaps. "I'll play a little bit of one-hit-wonder pop for us. Don't ya'll remember how much Love Hurts?"

Oh no. Ohhhh nooooo.

You see, I released a hell of a lot of songs. Popular songs. God only knows why they sold so well, seeing as the lyrics are half-heartedly well... crappy.

But the vocals... they rock.

Duh. They were done by me.

Not that I'm totally up myself or anything. I was the most self-conscious teenager America had ever seen. My weight yo-yoed like a... yo-yo. Until I met my now great friends Ben and Jerry. Now I stay a good old size 12.

"Don't Mistake It," said DJ Snaps. "This is a good ol' cheesy song, full o' Bubbles."

Hey, don't look at me. I didnt write those lousy songs. No, mine weren't good enough for the likes of Paul Slater, and See You Later Recording Label. My songs didnt even make the International Bonus Track.

Not that I'm sore, or anything.

"So here ya go!"

Broke my heart

Smiled that smile

To see that smile

I'd have walked a mile….

This young-girl may have been the teen pop sensation, but in any good fairy-tale you'll come across a desperate adolescent, ready to pounce and steal the handsome prince. Also known as the Wicked Witch of Carmel, Kelly Prescott.

How is it fair that wicked witches get just as active social lives as the good fairy/princess? How is it fair that Kelly Prescott was at the exact same party this night, shaking her ass on the front table, hoping "DJ Snaps" will catch a glimpse of whatever skanky secret she's hiding underneath her beaded mini.

Why can''t she have snakes growing out of her head, like the evil Medusa, or tentactles, like Ursula the Sea-Witch? That's what a real bad looks like. Kelly isn't bright enough to be a real super-villain though. I think the peroxide killed all her brain-cells.

"I know now!" cried the guy, downing his third shot. "You're Susannah Simon! That one-hit-wonder pop star!"

Everyone turned their heads to face me.

That was it. The good fairy was soon to be a dead woman.


	2. Chapter Two

**A/N** Here's the rewrite of Ch 2. Enjoy!

_Watch me_

_Catch the light_

_Thrill me_

_Every night_

_When we watch TV, stroke my hair_

_Kiss me, show me you care_

_Watch me, like you love me_

_Watch me like you love me_

"_Watch me"_

From the album "_Love Hurts_"

Vocals by Susannah Simon

Song written by Slater/Prescott

"Oh my God!" squealed Kelly, jumping up onto the table. "Susie? Its been so long! Why dont ya come up here and sing us your song!"

I rolled my eyes. Oh Puh-lease. The wicked witch sees all with her magic eye. She knew I was here all along.

"Susannah!" one woman cried. "I loved you! I had a poster of you on my wall!"

"I bet I had a bigger one!" yelled the guy behind her. OK, that was just pervy. "Can I get your autograph?"

"Found love since that dickhead Slater?" called another guy. "I've always taken your side over that, Susie!"

"Kelly!" I called. "Can you help get these people off?"

"Enjoy the attention," she tittered back. "While it lasts. Remember when you had more than-" she counted the crowd around me " - twelve people asking for your autograph?"

"Shut up, Kelly!" I yelled.

"Did I hit a nerve, Simon?" she asked. "I'm sorry. I forget not everyone can get off with a multi-millionaire producer."

That was it. I put down my Diet Coke and faced Kelly. Her stupid little smile disppeared.

"You may have stolen my fiancee, Prescott," I sneered. "But you're not gonna steal my dignity."

I reached foward and yanked one of her polyester hair extensions hard. She screeched and fell backwards into some delighted fan. Re-arranging her jewellry and breast implants, she stood up, and slapped my cheek hard. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her on to the floor.

"Its on, skank."

"Bring it, one-hit-wonder."

It was stupid how we rolled on the floor, swiping at each other viciously, hurling insults. Anybody who didnt know our past and looked on would have just dismissed the event as a drunken scramble. But the fans surrounding us, fumbling for their cell phones and digital cameras were ready to report a fight that should have occured long ago. Kelly Prescott stole my fiancee, and my career, and I wasnt ready to forgive her.

"You bitch!" I yelled at her, pulling her honey blonde curls. "Do you know what you did to me?"

"Saved you from yourself?" suggested Kelly. "Everyone knew your songs were never very good. You always had to borrow someone else's."

I dropped her wrists and stood up, tears flowing down my cheeks. "I never got a chance to show Paul what I could write."

"You got to prove you werent much use between the sheets though," remarked Kelly, and I was about to slug her again when someone held me back.

"Come with me, Susannah," they whispered in my ear.

"Did you hear what she said?" I squealed back. "That hurts, you know."

"Be the better person that you are," replied the guy, picking up my Diet Coke. "Come on."

I let him lead me out of the bar, and wipe smears of blood from my cheek. He handed me my Coke.

"Here," he said. "Drink."

I slurped noisily, till I felt calmer, and my breathing steady. "Thanks," I said. "I could have really caused some damage."

"I dont think breaking Kelly Prescott's nose would count as damage," replied the guy. He held out his hand. "Please to meet you, Susannah. My sister was a huge fan. I'm Jesse. Jesse De Silva."

I shook his hand and smiled. " I'm pleased to meet you too."


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter 3

I lifted my head in a half-dozy daze. I didnt recognise the wallpaper surrounding me, or the smell of fabric softener coming from the bed sheets. I rubbed my hair awkwardly and sat up.

"Good morning," said someone behind me.

I whipped around sharply and eyes widened at the sight that met me.

"Jesse?" I asked in surprise. "What are you - what am I doing here?"

Jesse laughed light-heartedly. "Dont worry, Susannah," he said. "You merely passed out unconscious next to me yesterday evening."

My mouth dropped. "You call that merely?"

"Well, I was a little taken aback," replied Jesse. "But I think you were just exhausted. Orange juice?"

He passed me a tumbler, which I accepted graciously and started drinking from. "Yeah," I said, after a long slurp. "Beating the crap out of Kelly Prescott can be pretty tiring."

Jesse laughed nervously. "Oh - just so you know," he added, blushing a little. "My sister Marta undressed you."

I looked under the covers hurriedly, to see I only had my knickers and bra on. I looked up, eyes wide.

"Its ok," Jesse assured me quick. "This is the first time I've seen you this morning. As if I'd ever dream-"

"Don't worry," I replied, calmly catching my breath. "But can I have my pants back?"

Jesse looked alarmed. "Uh..."

In burst two little girls, neither older than ten, screaming, their bunches styled madly, and their cheeks red with energy.

"Abegail! Conchita! Do you mind? Susannah could have been sleeping!"

"Scusa, Jesse!" they squeaked, but continued to hit each other with something. At a closer glance, I saw that it was -

"My pants!" I yelled, jumping out of bed.

Jesse shielded his eyes, and suddenly remebering, I squealed like a teenage girl, not my twenty-something year old self, and dived back into bed. I smiled awkwardly.

" So, you live with your whole family?"

xx

"I inherited my whole family after my madre passed away. My padre had already passed a few years before." Jesse handed me some coffee. We were in the kitchen now, and I was fully dressed - in my blouse from yesterday, and some of Marta De Silva's jeans.

"I'm sorry," I replied, patting his arm. "I think its really nice though, how you look after your sisters. You got any brothers?"

"No," said Jesse, laughing. "I've always been the only male. It was kind of hard, spreading the men's work between only the two of us."

I laughed. "Dont you ever get tired of it, though?" I asked. "Like after a long day at work, dont you wish you could come home to a quiet home?"

"The buzz of family life is comforting," he admitted. "But Conchita and Abegail can become a handful."

"Yeah, I can see," I replied. I blushed. "Sorry for the... display, earlier."

Jesse laughed. "I am sorry too, for what my sisters did to your jeans. I will get them fixed and drycleaned as soon as I-"

"Dont be silly," I said, firmly. "I'll buy some more. I'll go shopping on Saturday-"

"No you wont," interrupted Jesse.

I was stunned, for a few seconds. OK, maybe he was a little more arrogant than he came across...

"W-what? What do you mean, I wont be going shopping? I can do what I want-"

"I mean," he continued. "Instead of going shopping, you'll be drinking coffee. With me."

"Oh," I said simply. Then it hit me. "I mean, no thanks. I don't drink coffee."

I do. Its what gets me up every morning at 4:30am and helps me present my radio show. But I'm not ready to date yet. I mean, four months ago, I had my heart ripped out by a mean, heartless record producer. I didn't think it would exactly be a picnic, having the same thing done by a gorgeous, kind, family guy.

"Tea then, or hot chocolate."

Jesse was just simply not giving up. I sighed, defeated. OK, maybe he was nicer than how he came across.

"Fine. Is this how you get dates? Wait for them to pass out, then take them home, steal their pants, in exchange for a date?" I asked, teasingly. "You're sick, De Silva, sick."

"Perhaps," replied Jesse. "But it is working, si?"

"I guess. Starbucks, 12th, 2:00pm?"

"2:00pm," repeated Jesse, nodding his head. "See you there, querida." 


	4. Chapter Four

**A/N Here you go, Chibi-Cookies and lilcheekiemunkey, here's your longer chapter! Over 1200 words, even without the author notes! Enjoy everyone, and don't forget to review!**

_Toss your head_

_Earn your cred_

_Dance in the rain, feel the pain_

_Ruffle your hair_

_Walk like you care_

_Step on the stones, all alone_

_Let your hair down_

_"Let your hair down"_

From the album "_Don't Mistake It_"

Vocals by Susannah Simon

Song written by Prescott/Decker

Chapter 4

I fingered a lank, wispy lock and sighed at my reflection. Man, it had been a long time since I had had to make an effort to go somewhere. Only, last time, I found what I saw in the mirror passable. Last time, I was working out every night with kickboxing tapes, and dance routines. I haven't even raised my leg in about two years. I've been stuck on the couch for the past two years with my good friend the Oreo. Man, I love Oreos.

Focus, Suze. You are going on a date, with an actual human being. Not some guy that you only see when you pass out wasted on the couch, and who resembles Chandler from Friends. Oh no. You are meeeting a real-life, normal, Spanish, kind-hearted, guy. Who just happened to see you in your underwear yesterday.

My hands were actually shaking. They hadn't shook since the first time I had to sing in front of Paul.

"**_Welcome Susannah," said Mr Slater, shaking my hand. "My scouts tell me you're very talented. If you show us something worth recording today, we might be able to offer you a contract."_**

**_My mouth dropped. Me? An actual pop star? That's defintiely a step up from my Granny's Christmas parties. "I... I... cool?" I said, a little nervously._**

**_Paul laughed by his father's side. "I'll say." He held out his hand. "Paul Slater. Son of the big man here. Heir to See You Later recording label." He dropped my hand. "Baby, you got the brownest eyes."_**

**_I raised an eyebrow. I may have been fourteen, but I wasn't naive. And nobody called me baby, and got away with it. My mom sensed my neck tense, and put a hand on my shoulder._**

**_"She does, doesn't she?" replied my mom calmly. "Shall we get down to business? Susannah has gift for writing songs, you know."_**

**_Mr Slater smiled. "Well, let's see, shall we?" He turned to me. "Strut your stuff, Simon."_**

**_He placed a stool in front of others, and him and Paul sat down to watch. My mom joined them, beaming proudly._**

**_I smiled weakly, and took out my guitar. "Uh," I murmured. "I haven't actually prepared a song of my own, today." My mom's smiled disappeared. "I'll sing one of my Dad's favourite songs, because he died recent-"_**

**_"No," interrupted Mr Slater. "You'll sing something you wrote. Got it?"_**

**_"Um," I said, fighting back tears. "OK."_**

**_I started strumming._**

**_I feel, you were the one who caught when I fell_**

**_I smell, the scent of summer, does it ring a bell?_**

**_Piggy-backs, campire songs, ghost stories_**

**_The things we did, now fade like flurries_**

**_I'll fall back_**

**_And there won't be_**

**_Anyone, anymore_**

**_Anyone, anymore_**

**_I -_**

**_Mr Slater started clapping, bored. "What a voice!" he said, feigning enthusiasm. "But somehow not the wholesome girly thing we're looking for. Your songs... too thoughtful. Why won't you sing about make-up, and boys, like normal teenagers?"_**

**_My mouth dropped. "Who says I'm stereotypical?" I asked, putting my guitar away._**

**_"Nobody," replied Mr Slater. "Which is why I won't be signing you today."_**

**_Paul stood up. "Dad," he said. "Suze is good. She's sweet, talented, what we do need to get our industry off the ground." He turned to me. "Can you be stereotypical, just till we sell some records?"_**

**_I looked at my Mom, who was looking a little peaky. I looked at Paul, his eyes full of soft pleading. Then I looked at Mr Slater, who was scowling._**

**_I jumped off the podium, my guitar on my back. "I'm sorry Mr Slater," I said firmly. "Paul." I nodded my head. "Thanks for sticking up for me. Come on, Mom." I pulled my mom up, who had sunk into her plastic chair in despair. "Mom," I repeated, tugging harder. She eventually came loose of the chair, and followed me out of the room._**

**_"Suze!" cried Paul, running after me. "Suze! Come on, baby. My dad's a little tense, these days, on account of the dodgy record label industry. But we need you. And you need us. How else are you gonna get famous? Bar Mitzvahs?"_**

**_I was about to slug him one, just for saying that, when I stopped and thought about it. It was true, only even Bar Mitzvahs wouldn't take me. If only just a little, I had enough talent for See You Later to consider me. Could I really be throwing away my only chance?_**

**_"Fine," I said, taking off my guitar. "I'll sing your girly, wimpish songs. But only till your label sees some action. After all, I'm a rock chick at heart."_**

**_"Sure thing, baby," replied Paul, pulling me into a hug._**

**_I pulled away. "Call me baby one more time..." I warned._**

I laughed, pulling my dress straight. Yep, you read that right. Dress. It felt kinda weird, the whole breeze between the legs feeling. I'd grown accustomed to ... .well, teared jeans.

I rubbed my head and yawned. Man, if I could stay awake through this date, it would be a miracle. It would be kinda hard to not daydream when looking at this guy...

I turned to look at the clock. It read 1:50pm. Oh crap.

I was still in my apartment, 10 minutes till my date, having only ten minutes to get to somewhere 20 minutes away. And the only solution was to run. And - oh man - in Prada mules!

I groaned, and grabbed my purse, and skidded out of the door.

"Hey Paco!" I cried to the doorman as I ran past him. "Can't stop to chat, I'm late!"

I threw him the ritual brunch bar though. I do this every day, when I get out of the block, because I feel sorry for him. I mean, he has to stand there all day, flagging down cabs and opening doors. I guess I also do it because I know what its like to be a doormat (Get it? Hahaha).

"Thanks, Susie!" he yelled back. "Have fun, wherever you're going!"

"I will!"

I did say Paco flags down cabs, but I never said he does it quick. I love Paco with all my heart, but my God, does it take an age for him to get a cab. And right now, I couldn't wait an age. I had to run.

Faster, faster, I urged myself, but my mules weren't listening. They were growing heavier on my feet each second, but the stone beneath them was so intensely hot, it would blister my soles in a milli-second.

I needn't have worried, though. Once I arrived at Starbucks, at 2:05pm (ha! I made it in fifteen, which is soo not twenty. Though, with so much running, why don't I have rock-hard abs?) I saw that Jesse was already occupied.

He was standing outside, latte in hand, talking to someone tall, dark, and handsome.

You got it. Paul Slater.


	5. Chapter Five

**A/N Made a little mistak last chapter - the song was from the album "Love Hurts", not "Don't Mistake It". Sorry about that. And also - Suze's eyes are greeny brown, not brown. Sorry. That day was not my day. Anyways, enjoy the quick update, and review!**

_One of these days_

_I'll catch you unarmed_

_I'll steal your heart_

_One of these days_

"_One of these days_"

From the album "_Love Hurts_"

Vocals by Susannah Simon

Song written by Valdez/Slater

Chapter 5

"Paul?" I shrieked.

Because I really did think I'd never have to look into his ice-blue, ice-cold eyes again. Sure, I knew I'd see Kelly skulking around with her mini-skirt two inches long. But never Paul.

He turned around. "Susie?" he said, in (feigned, obviously) surprise.

"Don't give me that," I said, walking straight up to him in my mules fast enough to wipe the smarmy smirk off his face. "And don't you dare call me Susie."

Paul grinned. "You let me call you that when we-"

I stopped him short. "Do you see us dating right now? Your answer would be, in fact, no. So get out of my face, Slater."

Jesse, who I had almost forgotten, stepped foward to greet me. "Hello Susannah," he said, kissing my cheek. To Paul, he said, "I suggest you do what she says, Paul."

"Come on, Jesse," Paul said, still smirking. "You can't expect me to just stand here while you take my fiancee-"

"Ex-fiancee," I corrected him.

"-on a date," finished Paul.

"What are you going to do about it?" asked Jesse. "You know me well enough to not pick a fight."

Wait. What?

"What?" I repeated aloud. "You guys know each other? Well?"

"He was in the fraternity, Suze," explained Paul, bored.

I turned to Jesse. "You were in a frat?"

"Yes," replied Jesse awkwardly. "Which is why he should know that it's best to stay the hell away."

Oooh, that line was soo quotable! And kinda heroic and manly and-

Focus, Suze, and explain.

Okay, so Paul went to college for a year to study music, and was in a frat. Of course, him and his dad had like a huge arguement before, because Rick Slater wanted his son to continue making music with his band, Envious. But Paul said he wanted more out of life than fame (haha, good one), like an education. Paul won the fight at first, and enrolled, but after a year, he was forced to drop out and return to See You Later recording Studios. I've never known Rick Slater to lose an arguement. Before me, of course, when I refused to sing anymore girly, whiny, songs about Bubbles or Angels.

"Oh, I'll mess with you, De Silva!" growled Paul, and he threw a punch at Jesse's jaw.

I gasped. Only a person with no morals (duh) would try to destory something as beautiful as Jesse's jaw. Its weird how I never noticed how beautiful Jesse's jaw was beofre, at Paul's frat parties. I'd never even met Jesse till the other day, when he dragged me out of the bar.

"Paul!" I cried. "What the hell are you playing at?"

"I'm showing Pretty Boy here," replied Paul through grinding teeth, as he swung at Jesse again but missed. "That he can't have what's already taken!"

"I'm not yours!" I yelled, suddenly aware that a crowd was gathering to watch Paul Slater beat up his (ex, ex!) fiancee's date. "I never will be, Paul! Just stop it, and go play with your Kelly doll!"

Paul stopped trying (and not succeeding) to hit Jesse. "What?" he said. "Suze, you know Kelly meant nothing me."

"Which is why she still comes over to your apartment regularly and doesn't come out till the morning after, when she's snapped by paparazzi," I said, calmly. "Give up trying to play the innocent, Paul. It was me, and Jesse, who've you hurt."

I turned away in disgust, and started walking. Suddenly I heard a sickening crunch, and the spectators gasp. I turned around to see that Jesse's fist had plummeted full-force into Paul's face, and a satisfactory amount of blood was pouring steadily from his nose.

"You broke my nose!" grunted Paul, both hands over his face in agony. "You broke it!"

Clearly satisfied, Jesse replied, "You might want to think about that next time you go to break someone's heart."

I exhaled admirably and ran fowards to hug him. Normally, I'm not one to be a damsel in distress, but man, this guy was hot, and he so deserves a heroic moment.

Jesse hugged me back, but then pulled away.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing," he assured me. "I just... um.. I'm covered in blood."

"Ew," I said automatically. Then I laughed. "Comeon, lets get you to the emergency room."

xxxx

"Thanks for sticking up for me," I said sadly, as we sat in the waiting room. "Its been a while since anyone has been nice to me."

Its been a while since I could fit into size 8 clothing too, I added silently.

Jesse took my hand. "Paul Slater is not a good man," he said simply. "He treats women like it was as if they were not equal, just for the entertainment of men!"

I nodded. "That's Paul all right. I was so naive when I first met him." And for years after that. After all, I did agree to marry him.

"You're sure not naive anymore," replied Jesse firmly. "It was really cool when I heard you told that other Slater where to go."

"I was shaking like mad," I admitted, laughing. "But he wouldnt let me be me."

"That just won't do," replied Jesse, leaning closer. "Because there's no better person."

I lifted my gaze to meet his beautiful brown eyes. Not that he was pretty-looking. Dangerous, would be the word to describe him.

He took my chin between his two fingers. He was gonna kiss me, I was sure of it...

"What - a - picture!" cried some guy in front of us. A light flashed in front of us, and Jesse dropped his hands hurriedly. The guy said to the woman next to him, who was armed with a notepad - "Write this - 'Has been Susannah Simon moves on after ex-fiance Paul Slater dumped her - four months ago'."

To me, he says, "Thanks love, you're a doll," patting my shoulder. Now I know that my half-date will be splattered over the Times or Enquirer tomorrow morning.

"Great," I said, leaning back. "I'm not even a chart-topper anymore."

Jesse stretched. "Yeah," he said. "But people are still pretty interested in what Paul did."

Nice of him to bring it up.

"Anyway," continued Jesse, taking my hand again. "I guess I kinda messed up pur first date. I'm sorry."

"No worries," I replied. "You messed it up for a good reason." I looked at my watch. "Oh crap, I gotta go let the dog out." I got up, but turned to face Jesse. "Call me?"

Jesse smiled. "Of course."

I walked away, thinking. There was a photographer that needed his head hit in. He spoiled my date, and was gonna give my mother one hell of a surprise.


	6. Chapter Six

_**A/N Thanks for revieiwng! It means so much! This is my longest chapter - over 1100 words! Yay! Special thanks to the gang - Megan, Maz, Amy etc... for reading faithfully. I love you guys so much (as mates, obviously, I am NOT turning lezzie! ) and you rock.**_

_Leave me alone,_

_I wish I could snap my fingers and you'd be gone_

_You call me every night,_

_You give me a fright_

_When I'm with you, I'm ill_

_You give me a chill_

_Leave me alone_

**_"Leave me alone"_**

From the album "**_Don't Mistake It"_**

Vocals by Susannah Simon

Written by Slater/Prescott

Chapter 6

Having only had 5 hours of sleep last night instead of my usual 8 - due to a hospitalized Jesse and then a late-night (OK, late evening) phone-call from my best friend Cee Cee (ex-back-up-dancer), who knew exactly what time I have to be up in the mornings but decided she wanted to catch up anyway - I was not in my best state this morning at work.

"Morning Susie!" cried everyone as I entered the studio.

"Guys!" I yelled, stifling a yawn. "You know its Suze, not Susie!" Everyone grumbled and turned bacck to their coffee. I shrugged my shoulders awkwardly. "But hey."

"Hey Suze," said Heather at the sign-in desk. "How did your date with that guy go?"

Heather and I have a special bond. We're both Size 12s (the average size of an American woman, as Heather keeps reminding me), struggling to find the man of our dreams. Heather has found hers - her landlord, housemate, and her best friend - Yesm its the same person - but its going nowhere. We're still searching, after four months of working together.

"Um... Paul kinda showed up and pickied a fight," I said.

"Oh my God!" cried Heather. "Was your date OK?"

"Ish," I replied, fishing in my handbag for something to eat. "I took him to the ER, where we chatted, but then a photographer snapped us about to kiss."

"Uh," snorted Heather."Paparazzi should totally take a hike."

"Totally. So, how's things with Cooper?" I asked, chewing a cereal bar.

Heather looked dreamy. "Perfect," she said.

"Has he asked any special questions, lately?" I continued, teasingly.

That brought Heather back to Earth. She smiled sadly. "No," she replied. "He should so hurry up! I mean, my biological clock is ticking, and I want to have Jack, Emily, and baby Charlotte in the world by the time I'm forty."

I chewed thoughtfully. "Maybe you could propose-"

"Well," called Tim, our boss, striding over, clapping his hands. "Are you ladies cchit-chatting? Do I have to remind you girls that you, Suze, have to broadcast in exactly six minutes, and you, Heather-" he waggled his fingers. "-should be sorting out files in my office?"

I groaned. "But-"

"No buts, Simon. I see a but, anywhere, you will be without employment."

I frowned, but turned to go. There was no use trying to sweet-talk Tim. He was just about as straight as a roundabout - he wouldn't fall for it.

"That's it, Simon, keep walking," Tim called, as I walked away. "Go prepare your broadcast. You should find a special treat on your desk."

I turned around and pulled a face. I waved goodbye to Heather, then headed to my booth.

Lying on my desk was, as I saw when I got nearer, today's issue of the Enquirer. Splashed across the page were the bold words:

**SIMON'S NEW CATCH!**

_Has-been Susannah Simon moves on after ex-fiancee Slater dumped her four months ago._

It also said later on in the article that Jesse "appeared naive, obviously oblivious to his date's outraegous past".

I snorted in disgust, and chucked the paper into the wastebin. I slipped on my headset, and played the jingle.

"Good morning listeners, this is Susannah Simon on early-morning Carbonated FM. To get you wide awake, here's some Christina Aguliera to go with your coffee."

I pulled off my headset and wheeled my way over to check my mail. Bills, fan-mail, bills, letter from Mom...

My phone vibrated loudly, and made me jump. Who the hell would be calling at this hour? I mean, its 5:30am. My mom - the only person who rings my cell - doesn't get up for at leasr another 5 hours.

"Hello?"

"Suze?" Cee Cee yelled down the phone. "Oh my God! You're on newspapers and stuff! You're famous again!"

"Uh, Cee?" I asked. "A little loud for five-thirty."

"Oh sorry." Cee Cee quietened. "But is it true that you and your date Did It in the hospital last night? Thats what everyone is saying."

"Uh, no!" I squealed down the phone. "I mean, ew. Hospitals are so not as clean as they make out to be."

"Oh," replied Cee Cee, a little disappointed. "OK. I'll call ya later. Bye!"

I closed my cell and shook my head. Were people saying that about me? Really?

"Christina is back with vengance!" I spoke into my headset. "Now everyone is awake, its time for Shout Outs!" I pressed a button on my soundboard. "Caller on Line 1, you're live on Carboated FM! What's your shout out?"

"I'm Mary McDale, from Ohio. Hey there, Suze. I actuall haven't got a Shout Out. Its a question."

"Go ahead," I said, adjusting my headset. I mean, this doesn't faze me. I get people all the time asking me stuff like how I get up so early, and how to breakinto the music industry...

"Okey dokey then. Is it true that your date last night ended up in hospital because he attacked Mr Slater due to a psychological disorder?"

"No!" I cried in shock, then righted myself. "I mean, Jesse is in a mentally stable condition. Him and Paul ... just had a disagreement. Thankyou for calling."

I pressed another button to cut off the call. "Caller on Line 2? Do you have a shout out?"

"This is Sean Wilson, calling from Arizona. I also got a question."

"Uh," I said nervously. "OK."

"Is it true that Paul and yourself are getting back together, after your date violently attacked you, and Paul prevented serious damage?"

I snorted. "Puh-lease," I said. "Paul would rather watch me get beat to a pulp. And no, it isn't true. Jesse is every bit a gentleman. Thankyou for calling."

And so the 'questions' continued, until I unplugged my headset and played some N SYnc. I sighed. Who knew one measly date would cause so much controversy?

"Are you the mediator?" a voice behind me said.

"Yeah," I replied, spinning around. "How can I help?"

Facing me was a young girl no older than twenty, dressed in a cream, lacy, wedding dress. She was glowing, of course.

"I want to get revenge on my murderer," she said. "He made my murder look like an accident, so he could collect from the Insurance company. We were married, you see."

"Oh my God," I said, wheeling closer. "Who is this... monster?"

"You know him," she sobbed. "He's sly, rich and charming. But he killed me. Paul Slater killed me!"


	7. Chapter Seven

**A/N Yes, cheesy song. I wrote it badly, because it was meant to be cheesy! Like Boyz Attack! in Instant Star (fellow ISers will know what I mean... )**

**_Suze - Hip Hop, ska, pop, rock, metal Are we boring doing what we do?_**

**_Paul - If we have those who love us They'll pull us through_**

**_Both - We'll make music, together_**

**_Rock the charts, forever._**

**_Suze - I'm loving Pop. Don't stop._**

**_Paul - I won't baby, don't give up._**

_**"Music, U + Me"**_

From the album **_"Love Hurts"_**

Vocals by Susannah Simon and Paul Slater

Song written by Thomas/Davies **(A/N Ha ha, you know who you are!)**

Chapter 7

You know you have those moments where they are just so... horrible, you wish you could do them again?

Like kissing that nerd in Spin the Bottle, or doing something completely cringe-worthy (like this song I released with Paul - ew), just to impress your crush?

Or, for instance, agreeing to be engaged to Paul Slater, a murderer!

I stood looking at this girl for ages. No way. She didn't look old enough to have graduated high school. He'd been engaged to me for a year, and before that we'd been dating. And after that, he'd been sucking face with Kelly Prescott. This kid had to be lying. There had to be some mistake, or Ashton Kutcher hiding behind my desk ready to shout "You've been Punk'd!"

But I wasn't greeted by Ashton Kutcher (a slight disappointment). Instead, this girl just stared me straight in the eye.

"I'm not kidding," she said, glaring at me. "If you don't believe me then maybe I've come to the wrong person.."

"No!" I said. "I'm the mediator, I can help you."

"Fine. I want Paul exposed to the world as the bigamistic, sexist pig he is!"

"Uh.." I said, a little uneasily. "And how do you suppose I do that?"

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head in disgust. "Like you said, you're the mediator. Roaming round looking for bewildered dead people, isn't my problem."

"Gee," I said. "That's a lot of help."

The kid smiled. "Glad I was of some use," she replied, with a fake smile. "So, can you let me know when you've take care of it?"

"Is your social calendar too full to come check on me yourself?" I asked, through gritted teeth.

The girl looked thoughtful. "Pretty much," she said, after a while. "Some of these dead people are pretty friendly."

Then she was gone. I looked at the newspaper article still lying in my wastebin, and suddenly couldn't decide who I hated more: The ex-Mrs Slater, or whoever wrote the paper.

xxxx

"Are you OK?" asked Jesse, as he handed me my carton of Moo Shu Pork. "Do you want spicy beef instead?"

I shook my head. "I'm... fine," I said slowly. "And the take-out is delicious."

"You just seem a little distracted," he said, battling with his chopsticks. "Was work bad, or something?"

"I guesss you could say it was a little weird," I said truthfully, having no trouble at all with my own chopsticks.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jesse asked. God, he was hot.

Shut up, Suze.

"Um... no. I'm sorry, its just... you'll find me strange, and never want to speak to me again, and I'll be carted off to the loony bin and-" the excuses just kept flowing out of my mouth.

"You're a mediator," Jesse interrupted, putting down his take-out box.

"W-what?"

"A mediator," he repeated, sinply. "Do not deny it, Susannah."

"I wasn't," I replied. "But how did you know?"

"I know the difficulties and responibilities," he said, calmly.

I felt my mouth drop. "You're one too!" I cried, raising a finger. "You're a mediator!"

"Perhaps."

He picked up his beef and began eating again.

"How come you never told me!" I shrieked, unable to eat.

"I did not want you to... 'find me strange, and never want to speak to me again, and I would have been carted off to the loony bin..'"

I scowled. "Ha ha."

"Were you ever planning on telling me your little secret, either?" Jesse asked. "As Marta says 'Don't dish what you can't take'."

"I... I guess not," I said, slowly. There was a painful silence, then - "I'm sorry."

"Never mind," he said. "Its a secret sometimes we want to even keep from ourselves."

"Hmm," I said, thoughtfully.

"So what did happen at work, today?" he asked. "Something ghost-related, I guess?"

"Yeah," I said. "It was a little shock. This girl... she was killed. By Paul."

For a moment, I thought Jesse was laughing.

It turned out he was as shocked as I was, and was choking.

"What?" he said, once he'd caught his breath. "I knew the man wasn't perfect... but a killer?"

"I know," I said, sighing. "She.. wants me to expose him to the world, as he is."

"Sounds reasonable to me," he said, but I glared at him.

"Hello?" I said. "Ex-fiancee? And a matter of lacking in evidence!"

"Then we find it," Jesse said simply. "And we'll show the world just exactly who Paul Slater is!"


	8. Chapter Eight

**A/N An update! Eventually! Hooray! I hope none of you have lost interest...**

**Please don't!**

_You think you can make it all right?_

_If you hold me oh-so-tightly _

_If you plant one extra kiss _

_It won't matter if you're a'missing_

_But you're wrong _

_Oooh - ooh _

_Yeah you're wrong _

_That means not right _

_Yeah you're wrong _

_You gotta be there on the night_

**_"Wrong" _**

From the album "**_Get Over It_**"

Written by Slater/Prescott

Vocals by Susannah Simon

Chapter 8

**_I stared at this glistening rock on my finger as I was in the elevator up towards the studio. Could it be real? Was I really going to marry Paul Slater - the most powerful man in music? It was all so exciting!_**

**_I was having Cee Cee, Debbie (my step-sister-in-law), and Shannon (also step-sister-in-law) as my bridesmaids, and Kelly was my wedding planner. I was happy enough to plan it myself, but she insisted. It had to be the perfect wedding, she said. Us Weekly material, at least. She'd promised it was going to be amazing. In fact, she'd spent the whole weekend away in Italy with Paul, planning a few honeymoon surprises. It all seemed so good to be true._**

**_Third floor..._**

**_Fourth floor..._**

**_Why did he have to work on the twentieth floor? And why did this elevator take so long? I was desperate to see my fiance!_**

**_Kelly was awesome. She'd dated Paul way back in High School, but she assured me it was behind them. They'd ended on good terms, but not too good, she'd promised. Nothing to worry about. And I'd taken her up on that. She was definitely true to her word._**

**_Seventh floor..._**

**_Eighth floor..._**

**_I started humming my new song. I'd spent all night on my guitar on the floor at mine and Paul's place, strumming away, fitting my new song together. slater Sr promised he'd take a look after the wedding._**

**_"Way up high... there's a place I never knew... Heaven, where only songbirds flew, the place... oh the place, where I met you - ooh - ooh..."_**

**_Eleventh..._**

**_Twelveth..._**

**_I liked Kelly's stuff, but I was ready to record my own. Shake off the tween image. I was twenty five now... I'd left the tweens behind a while ago. A long while ago. I was ready to take whatever being a rock chick brought. After all, it was time to experience something new..._**

**_Fourteenth..._**

**_Fifteenth..._**

**_Maybe I could release my own clothing line! To go with my new image. Jeans, badges, bags..._**

**_Maybe even a fragrance!_**

**_OK, so I was in my own little dream-world. I was allowed! My prince had finally come. We'd buy a house in the sub-urbs, get a dog, have a few kids, name them Jack, Emily, and baby Charlotte..._**

**_Ping! Twentieth floor._**

**_"Hey Dean," I said, to the receptionist. "Studio One?"_**

**_"Yeah," he replied, handing me a pile of letters. "Here's your fan-mail."_**

**_"Thanks," I said, and I clacked away in my Manolos, to find Paul._**

**_Studio... One. Where I'd recorded my first See You Later Debut - Bubbles. And it was this studio where I'd be recording my first written song - Heaven. I pushed the door open._**

**_I let the door swing shut behind me._**

**_I walked into the studio, ripping open my first letter when something stopped me. There, lying on the soundboard, was Paul. On top of him, exploring the realms of his tonsils, was Kelly. I dropped the pile of the letters to the floor with an echoing SMASH. Kelly leapt off Paul. "Suze!" she squealed._**

**_"Paul?" I whispered, my voice breaking._**

**_"Suze," he said, re-fastening his buttons on his shirt. "I can explain!"_**

**_"I don't want an explanation!" I screamed. "I can't believe I believed that perfect honeymoon shit! It was all a load of lies!"_**

**_"Suze," cried Kelly, running towards me. "Listen to him-"_**

**_"Get away from me, bitch!" I screamed, letting the tears roll down my cheeks. "Get - away - from - me!"_**

**_I tore my diamond ring off my finger, and threw it right at her. The stone hit her square between the eyes._**

**_Kelly screamed, and I screamed... and the next thing I remember is-_**

**_I sat up, gasping for air. Why had I re-lived that day? The blessing in disguise?_**

Because that's what it was - a blessing. If I'd have married Paul, he might have killed me and stolen all my money...

"Its OK, Suze," I whispered to myself. "Just close your eyes and go back to sleep."

I sank back into my pillow, breathing hard.

* * *

_Meet me at De Silva Detective Agency, 2:30pm_. 

That was the text Jesse had sent me at 7:30am, while I was on air that morning. _Meet me at De Silva Detective Agency_.

That was all good and well, but how the hell was I meant to know where that was? Just hop into a cab and hope ƒor the best?

"De Silva Detective Agency, please," I said, handing the driver ten bucks. "And you can have another ten if you actually find the place by 2:30."

I reclined on the torn leather seat of the taxi, and scratched my neck wearily. I ended up not having much sleep, and that nightmare. It was all too real. The elevator, the ring, the Kelly-and-Paul thing...

"Hey lady," said the cabbie. "You know this De Silva fella?"

"Yeah," I said, scrunching my nose. "Why?"

"No reason," he replied. "But if you're single, grab him fast. Look at this place!"

I looked at the window, and saw the most magnificent building I'd ever seen uptown. The windows were framed with blue curtains, and there was a big pot plant beside the large oak front door.

"Wow..." I whispered, slipping the driver a well-deserved twenty -it was only 2:20 - and stepping out of the cab. "Its beautiful."

The car sped off, and I was left gazing up at the building in its dust. Suddenly, the door swung open.

"Hey," said Jesse, hopping down the big stone steps to greet me. He kissed me lightly on the cheek. "You're early."

"By some form of miracle," I said lightly, smiling. "This place is amazing - you own it?"

"Yeah," replied Jesse modestly. "Four years studying police science eventually pays off, I guess."

"I'll say," I said, as Jesse led me into the foyer. I gave a low whistle. "Woah..."

"Enough with the praise," said Jesse, seriously. "I've got something to show you."

"OK," I said, and I followed him through an arch into his office - painted a very sophisticated sage colour, I'll admit - and he urged me to take a seat. I fell into an armchair and put down my bag. "So," I continued. "What is it?"

"This," he replied, and he took something out of his desk. "A marriage certificate, between Paul Slater, and Marissa Medhurst. Dated 20th October, 2005."

My blood ran cold, and my fingers became sweaty. My breathing hastened, and my heart started pumping fast.

"Susannah?" said Jesse, running to my side concernedly. "What's the matter?"

"Jesse," I replied, looking deep into his eyes. "That's the day he proposed to me."

**R&R!**


	9. Chapter Nine

**A/N A reasonably quick update, yes? Well, Merry Xmas from Moondancing Millie. Enjoy!**

_Melting on my tongue _

_The snowflake I've known since I was so young _

_The roar of the wind _

_Around and around it spins, I spin_

_Winter time _

_Its alright _

_Its ready to take me by storm _

_Up in the clouds _

_Today I'm allowed _

_To watch the skylights form_

"**_Winter Time_**"

From the album "**_Get Over It_**"

Song written by Prescott/ Johnsen

Vocals by Susannah Simon

Chapter 9

"Do you know anybody who'd go along with it?" asked Jesse, sipping his coffee, and unravelling his woollen scarf.

"None come to mind," I said. "Cee Cee would, but she's married."

"I'd say Marta, but she couldn't be trusted," he replied. "She'd take everything too far, and we need someone responsible. I'll ask around the agency."

"Thanks," I said, taking a sip from my own cup. "I just can't believe it. Paul really is a fraud!"

"He was never trustworthy when he were frat brothers." admitted Jesse. "Different girl round to a party each night. I don't think there was even one he brought twice."

"So it wasn't just Kelly he was cheating with," I said sadly.

Jesse saw my upset and put a big warm arm around me. I have to say, that cheered me right up. "I'm sorry, Susannah," he said. "I forgot you-"

"Its OK," I said quickly, and unfortunately, Jesse released me. "We'll get him. Just wait."

xxxx

"No way," said Cee Cee, through a mouth of vanilla. "No-freaking-way."

"Its true." I said, chomping through my bucket of strawberry.

It was our monthly - OK, weekly - ice-cream and movie fest at my place. We'd stick on a completely soppy movie and eat ice-cream all night. It doesn't get old. Not even for Cee Cee, who's married.

"So while he was making music with you - his fiancee - he was off sucking face with like, a million other girls at college?"

"And afterwards," I added. "Don't forget Kelly."

Cee Cee snorted in disgust. "He is so not worth it, Suze. Move on with your life, babe. Like this Jesse. Have you done him yet?"

"Cee Cee!" I squealed. "No! We haven't even kissed yet."

"Well, make a move!" she insisted. "Get married to him. He seems OK."

"I don't date people just because they seem OK," I argued. "I marry for love. You should know that. Besides, we're seeing each other professionally now."

Cee Cee raised her eyebrows.

"Fine," I sighed. "I'm waiting for him to make the first move."

My cell buzzed in my lap. Cee gave me a 'well, there you go' look, which I ignored, and I answered my cell.

"Hello?"

"Susannah? I've found somebody!"

'Its Jesse!' I mouthed to Cee Cee, pointing to my phone, and then replied "That's great! Who?"

"Well," he said. "Are you busy?"

"No," I lied. "Why?"

"Come over to the agency," he replied. "Meet her."

"Now?"

"Yep."

"OK. See you soon," I finished, and I hung up. "Sorry Cee," I said. "Mystery-solving stuff to be done. We've found somebody to go undecover."

"Why couldn't you go undercover?" asked Cee Cee. "Why involve anybody else?"

"Because Paul would never fall for it," I replied. "He'd never believe that I've forgiven him and wanted to get back together."

"True," admitted Cee Cee. "So who is this girl, then?"

xxxx

"Susannah! Come in!"

I was greeted warmly by Jesse at the entrance to his agency, and he invited me into his porch, which was so unbelievably warm that I nearly melted. But have no fear - I controlled myself. Fortunately.

"So, Detective," I said with a salute. "Have we found a red herring?"

"I believe a herring is a fish," said a husky voice, from the office. "And does it look like I have scales, to you?"

A tall, glossy figure appeared at the doorway. She was dressed in claret, and her black curls gathered at her shoulders. Her thin crimson lips were pursed together, and her long ebony eyelashes fluttered flirtatiously.

"We do," replied Jesse, ignoring the new arrival. "Susannah, meet Maria."


	10. Chapter Ten

**A/N Hey! I'm sorry for the really long gap since last update. I hope you'll still read and review. I also hope I've made up for the wait. Hope to hear from you guys!**

Chapter 10

"Susannah? Did you hear what I said?"

I shook my head, and held out my hand mindlessly. "Hey," I said suddenly, and forced a smile. "Nice to meet you."

"Charmed, I'm sure," she replied coldly. She turned her head to Jesse and flashed a smile. "Care to show me your office?"

He grinned in reply and gestured towards two large armchairs. I took the one nearest the window. I had a feeling this would be a long evening.

"Wow," she said, crossing her legs. "These armchairs are soooooo comfortable." I rolled my eyes as Jesse tried to divert his gaze from Maria's bare bronze pins. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair at all.

"Really?" I replied, scowling. "Because I'm beginning to feel a pain in my ass."

Maria gave up a weak giggle and tossed her hair over her shoulder. She was obviously ignoring the fact that the metaphor had been about her.

Right. I couldn't stand her flirting anymore. It wasn't right - Jesse was my boyfriend, practically. I think. Nearly.

"I'm gonna go... get...some water," I announced, interrupting Maria's fascinating (not) tale about how an air steward "accidentally" walked in on her while she was in the toilet on board an aeroplane...

I almost ran out of the office and fished in my pockets for change to buy an Evian. I took my time, hoping the story would be finished by the time I'd drunk half of it...

I'd been gone about ten minutes - I was planning on making up some female emergency aswell - so I decided Maria couldn't possibly be on the same subject. I made sure my hair was passable before re-entering the office. But what was in front of me stopped me in my tracks.

"Oh my God..."

I dropped my half-empty bottle of water on the floor, and didn't even bother to crouch down and collect it. Because there was Maria, sitting on Jesse's lap with her oh-so-toned legs and kissing him for all he was worth.

Which was - I used to think - a lot.

Now he was just like every other man.

Maria let go of Jesse relunctantly and stared daggers at me. "What?" she snapped.

"Susannah..." whispered Jesse, and he stood up, shrugging Maria off his lap.

"Save it, Jesse," I said, and I saw myself out of the office. After I shut the main door and realised that nobody had chased after me, I spectacularly burst into tears.

* * *

"Have you ever thought of joining a convent?" asked Cee Cee seriously, dishing out the pasta. After an extremely long discussion over the phone, she had invited me over for dinner with her family. 

"Ha ha," I replied, attempting to pick at my plate. Cee Cee swatted my hand away. "And no."

"I think its the only solution to your problem," she said, pouring the sauce.

"Auntie Suze!" Cee Cee's twin daughters came running into the kitchen and seized me around the waist before I could reply.

"Libby, Harriet." I patted their heads gently as I scowled at their mom. Cee Cee pointedly ignored me, and set down five bowls of pasta at the table.

"Adam, dinner's ready!" she yelled, and she sat down in silence, putting a basket of bread in the center of the table.

"Black and white just aren't my colours," I said softly, as I sat beside her. "OK?"

Cee Cee laughed, suddenly, showing a mouthful of perfect teeth, where sparkling braces had once been. "Its OK, Suze," she said. "I was kidding."

I kicked her playfully, but dug into my plate. I was all of a sudden ravenous.

Her husband Adam came into the kitchen, filling the doorway and kissing each of his daughters and his wife on the forehead before sitting at the head of the table.

"Ladies," he said, and he gave a nod to each of us. "Suze, its a pleasure, as always."

"Thanks, Adam," I smiled, with a mouthful of pasta.

Adam grinned handsomely. "So Suze, the dreaded question - how's your love life?"

I heard Adam's quiet yelp as Cee Cee kicked him under the table, aswell as Libby and Harriet's giggles, and all I could do was sit there with my eyes filling up.

"I''m sorry, Cee," I said. "But I gotta go."

I grabbed my coat and bag and ran all the way home - a whole seven blocks - sobbing all the way. When I finally reached my apartment block, I wiped yucky mascara marks from underneath my eyes in the elevator. And it was a good job I did.

I got out of the elevator and counted the doors until my apartment - 201... 202... 203... 204.

"Susannah? Let me in, I know you're there. Let me in and let me explain. I need to explain. Let me in Susan-"

"Jesse?"

He spun around, and I saw instantly that in his hand was a bouquet of roses. They were red, like our blushes.

"What are you doing here, Jesse?" I said. "I thought I made it clear I never wanted to see you again."

Jesse handed me the flowers at once, then took my hand. I pulled it out of his grip and tried to make my way to open my front door.

"Tell me what is wrong, querida."

"Maria is beautiful, Jesse," I said, turning around fiercely. "Be with her. Together you guys look like the winners of the genetic lottery. Your kids will be perfect."

"Lottery? Kids? Querida, Maria was a mistake. She was trying to kiss me, and I had nowhere to go."

"You could have told her to take a hike."

"I could have, querida and I'm sorry."

"I don't believe you," I snarled, and I threw the flowers back in his face.

"I thought maybe that you just thought of us as professional partners," Jesse attempted to excuse himself.

"Oh yeah, and making out with Miss Slut right under my nose was reall the key to my heart," I replied harshly. "Just leave me alone, Jesse."

"No," he whispered, and he leaned down and kissed me, right on the lips, like I had never been kissed before.

It took my breath away, all my anger and hurt and confusion. His breath was minty and cool, while his lips were so warm, and I automatically slipped my hands around his neck. I barely realised what I was doing until a voice interrupted us.

"Suze!"

We broke apart, and the clack-clack of stilletos became louder as the image of Kelly Prescott came closer. Oh great. Another person I could have done without.

As she reached me, she threw her arms around my neck and hugged me tight, crying hard.

"What's wrong?" I asked. She let go and lowered her collar to show me a bloody scrape across her collarbone.

"He tried to kill me," she whispered in reply. "We're engaged, and he tried to kill me. Suze, what am I going to do?"

I exchanged glances with Jesse. Then I turned back to Kelly. "Keep crying," I said. "We're going to the police."

Shoving her in front of me, I turned to Jesse who was behind me.

"You're not forgiven," I said. "But its time to get even with Paul."


	11. Chapter Eleven

**A/N Hey to rubberducky09, here's your update! I hope it lives up to yours - and everybody else's - expectations. I'm sorry that there hasn't been an update for a while. But now I have my own computer I have more time to update and stuff, so you'll be seeing more regular updates for this and other fics. Enjoy - Moondancing Millie**

_I'm called an angel - painted white_

_Too scared to face the dark of night_

_Kept inside my shell_

_Won't face this world of hell_

_I cling to all things right_

_I'm painted pure, I'm painted white_

**"Painted White"**

**From the album "Love Hurts"**

**Written by Prescott/Slater**

**Vocals by Susannah**

Chapter Eleven

We rocketed down the stairs, though Kelly was being pulled, as her short denim skirt didn't allow hasty movement. I would have suggested removal of said skirt, only there was a man in our presence - and I didn't fancy my chances of Jesse seeing Kelly in her underwear. God knew I had already lost one man to the coniving skank.

Jesse and I jumped into the cab with Kelly. The heavily bearded driver nodded at us, and I was disgusted to see his beer-belly imitate the movement. Just one of these days I will find a hygenic, sober cab driver. But then again, beautiful people have real jobs. I should know. I used to be a beautiful person.

I leaned fowards, and gave directions to the police station. The cab driver grunted something incoherent, and but then stepped on the gas. I was flung backwards, and Jesse had to clasp my fingers to keep me steady. I grinned sheepishly - but I was sure that my grin was accompanied by a blush.

But soon I slipped my fingers out of Jesse's grasp and slid uneasily into the position of the middle seat. There was quiet heavy metal oozing from the stereo, but apart from that, nothing occupied our silence. It was undeniable that the three of us were not a good match left together. Though, given Jesse's behaviour, I would have guaranteed the cheating snake and the homewrecking whore would have had fantastic chemistry. Maybe Jesse wasn't what he appeared to be.

But yes, the ride was taking longer than I'd thought. It was getting uncomfortable - what with all the contrasting emotions. My hurt, Jesse's confusion, and Kelly's... well, Kelly-ness. I was deep in thought, Jesse was sitting beside me starting to sweat, and Kelly had stopped crying now, but was still sniffling, and wiping away the odd mascara mark with a Kleenex.

"Hey," I said, to the cab driver, suddenly piercing my reflections. "You aren't lost are you?"

"No," he said abruptly, and went back to driving like a mad thing again. I spotted a huge wad of cash in the driver's pocket, and took a large intake of breath. It had been a while since I'd seen that kind of dough.

"Gee, you cab drivers sure make a lot," I said admiringly, and sat back in my seat.

"Uh-huh," was the reply.

It was getting later, and the streets were getting emptier. We should have been at the police station a while ago, but the cab driver was still speeding along the main street. I was sure we'd passed the same block of apartments six times in a row by now. I spoke up again.

"Hey, its O.K, we'll get out now. We can walk. Pull over, so we can give you your money?"

"No," came the driver's angry growl, and he pressed a button to lock all the doors. Kelly screamed in my ear, and even Jesse had turned white. I reached for the door handle, trying it anyway.

"Help!" I yelled, banging on the door window. "Help! He's gone mad!"

But it was no use. The streets were nearly empty now, and the cab was going to fast for anybody to catch up to us anyway.

"Sit back!" ordered the driver, and he extended an arm to shove me backwards. "I am doing my job here, and you're not going to mess it up!"

"Your job?" I echoed, screechy. "Are you purposefully trying to kill us?"

But he didn't listen. Instead, he spun his steering wheel crazily, and the wheels groaned and cried out in despair. The car went spinning across the road, and I grabbed both Jesse and Kelly's hands. The driver put both hands up to protect himself against the crash.

Around and around and around we went, like the tea-cups at Disneyworld.

**_"Hey," Paul had said._**

**_It was our first tour together, and one of the venues had been Disneyworld, Florida. It was so awesome, especially as back home, we'd never been crapping money like the Slaters. We'd never had the cash to go to Disneyworld._**

**_"Ten minutes," said Rick Slater sternly. "You kids don't move. You stay put, and perform great, and I'll buy you both a double-coned ic-cream with syrup and nuts, got it?"_**

**_Yeah. We were fifteen, but Rick Slater always treated us like five year-olds._**

**_"Hey," said Paul, again, grabbing my hand excitedly. "Lets sneak out for one last go on the tea-cups before the show. It'll give us that rush we need to perform, you know, adrenaline? Let's go."_**

**_"But your dad said-"_**

**_"Forget the old man - I can buy you ice-cream. We'll be back before he checks anyway. Our pop-star status always sends us to the front of the queue."_**

**_So we'd snuck out, hand in hand, feeling the burst of energy even before we'd sat in the tea-cup._**

**_Paul was always in charge. He'd sat me down in the tea-cup, told me to look pretty, then placed both his hands on the wheel._**

**_"Paul, no-"_**

**_But he had already started spinning us. Round and round and round till my head was spinning even with my eyes shut, and I could feel vomit rising in my throat. I gripped the side with ice-cold fingers, and shut my eyes tighter and tighter until - _**

**_"Suze, baby, its O.K. Its over."_**

**_And I was still again. The tea-cups had stopped spinning, and Paul was holding my hands. I smiled weakly. _**

**_"I hope the ice-cream was worth that."_**

**_"I can give you something sweeter," he said, and leaned in to kiss me. And then I knew everything was fine. Everything was O.K, and-_**

**CRASH.**

All four of us where thrown foward, and I could see, even with my eyes squinting, that the driver's head went straight through the windshield. Kelly's head had hit the side window, but it hadn't smashed. Jesse was leaning against the driver's head-rest, his eyes shut, but a pulse still drummed obviously in his neck. Both of them had blood trickling down their foreheads. I lifted a hand to touch my own face, and was horrified to find I had my own share of the red stuff.

But before I could do anything about that, I was met with a horrifying headache, so severe I couldn't keep my eyes open. I raised a bruised and bleeding hand to my forehead, then sank into the seat beside Jesse.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**A/N Hey from Moondancing Millie! This should be an interesting chapter, as it flickers from Suze's old life, where she was with Paul, to now. Enjoy, and this is dedicated to Megan, who is going on holiday and LEAVING ME ALONE FOR MY CHOIR CONCERT TOMORROW!!! (Grr Argh!)**

**Moondancing Millie**

_Draw your knife from your pocket_

_And put it to your neck_

_Pierce the skin and watch it burn_

_Death is your gift_

_Its the only thing you can give to me_

_Let the blood run, let me learn_

**_"Death is your Gift"_**

Written and Vocals by Susannah Simon

Demo recorded at Cartwright Records

**Chapter Twelve**

**_"Hey, Suze!" Paul called over, as I watched the game on the wide-screen TV. "Can I get you a beer?"_**

**_"Sure!" I yelled, distracted. I loved Paul's frat parties. All of the boys from the university, the nerds to the jocks fawned over me - I was Susannah Simon, glamourous teen star. Why wouldn't they adore me?_**

**_All of the guys made me laugh, calling me "Paul's regular", and only after we broke up did I know what they meant. I was Paul's showdog, the girl he brought out for parties and other public outings. But I thought they were all just teasing me. I was just like any other naive eighteenn year-old._**

**_"Hey Susie, can I get a lapdance?" Brad Peters of the crew team cried, and all his surrounding peers laughed like hyenas._**

**_"In your dreams, Peters," I replied, swigging the beer had brought me._**

**_"I'm counting on that tonight." He grinned maliciously at me, licking his lips at me, and then came the guffaws again. I took another swig of beer, and reached across the sofa to kiss Paul, who obediently obliged enthusiastically._**

**_After the jeers of "Get a room!", Paul grinned, and said in my ear, gently:_**

**_"I have to show Rebecca here around the campus, is that OK?"_**

**_"Sure," I replied, indulging yet again in beer. "She seems sweet."_**

**_"I guess," said Paul. "But after I show her around, maybe you and I can get a room."_**

**_I grinned, and drained my beer bottle. "See you later." I blew him a kiss. After he disappeared, I felt a light tap on my shoulder._**

**_"You shouldn't let him treat you like that." As I turned around, I was greeted by a really tall guy - towering over me, even in my ankle boots._**

**_"What do you mean?" I asked, searching for another beer. "Do you know where the beer is?"_**

**_"No," the guy replied shortly. "And Paul treats you like his barbie doll. Don't you have a personality?"_**

**_"I have plenty of personality!" I declared, tripping over his feet on my quest for beer, and having to steady myself._**

**_"You mean when you're not drunk?" Mr Know-It-All queried. "I think you should sit down, Susannah."_**

**_"And I think you should shut up!" I cried drunkenly, trying to focus on his face so I could yell at him properly. He was quite good-looking, with dark curly hair and olivey skin, and through his eyebrow was a lightening-white scar. "But hey, I guess we all can't get what we want."_**

**_"Hey Susie!" Brad Peters called over. "Come and sit with us, and tell us all about what colour panties you're wearing tonight."_**

**_"If you'll excuse me," I said, trying to sound important as I made my way over to Brad Peters backwards. "I have an appointment."_**

**_"i'm sure you do," the guy said, rolling his eyes. "Stupid girl."_**

**_I would have protested at that point, if I hadn't have thrown up copiously all over the carpet. I looked weakily up at where the guy had been, but he had gone. So gladly, I forgot all about him._**

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

I opened my eyes groggily, and tried to clear my throat, without success. My whole body ached - even my spine, which burned furiously. So, instead of moving, I turned my attention to trying to figure out where I was.

The walls were plainly whitewashed, and the floor was cheaply laminated. A lamp flickered weakly in the corner, and above it, was a copy of Monet's waterlilies. I was in a hospital.

And suddenly it all came rushing back to me - the crazy cabbie, the spinning - like teacups - and the blood trickling down my forehead. I reached up to my forehead nervously, to find a thick bandage covering most of it. I squinted, and dropped my hand to my side. I was hurt. So where was the Morphine?

"Ah, Miss Simon!" cried a man from the other corner of the room. "Glad to see you're with us again. How are you feeling?"

"Its Ms.," I grunted, rudely.

"Of course," the man - I assumed he was a doctor - replied kindly. "I suppose you have seen your vast amount of fan mail - they wish you a full recovery, you know." He gestured to a large display of coloured balloons and teddy bears, which hurt my eyes to look at. I shut my eyes in pain, but the doctor was having none of it.

"No, Ms.Simon, there'll be plenty of time to rest soon," he said. "First we have to check you're doing O.K."

"I feel like crap," I told him loudly, and all he did was laugh.

"Good, that means you can feel all your body parts." He shone a light in my eye, and I groaned. "Can you tell me your full name, Ms. Simon?"

"Susannah May Simon," I said obediently.

The doctor checked his sheets, and nodded. "Well done," he praised. "And my name?"

"You haven't told me!" I exclaimed at his stupidity. The doctor shuffled about, emabarassed, and showed me his badge.

"Dr. Michael Meducci, PHD," I read aloud, and he ticked a box on his sheet, labelled "Awareness".

"I'm obviously ticking all the boxes," I continued, annoyed. "Can I sleep now?"

"I'm afraid not," Dr. Michael Meducci, PHD replied. "I think you should follow me, Ms.Simon."

* * *

Once he had released me from all my drips, Dr. Meducci led me down a hallway that looked as bleak as my hospital room. The journey was silent, except for the sinister of my unsteady breathing, and my bare feet hitting the floor everytime I took a new step. We passed room after room after room of sick patients, until we reached the end of the corridor. There was just one door left, and Dr. Meducci gestured for me to follow him. 

"In here," he said calmly, and I trailed nervously after him. And I was right to be nervous. But my nerves hadn't prepared me for the sight I was about to see.

Accompanied by his own _beep, beep, beep, _and lying down as stiff as a plank of wood - but as white as a sheet - was Jesse. His usual olive complexion had been drained of all his colour, and there was no visible pulse.

"He looks...dead," I whispered, my voice unable to reach any higher decibels.

"Not quite," said Dr. Meducci, in what I was sure was meant to be a comforting tone - it was unsuccessful. "Are you aware of how long you have been in a coma, Ms. Simon?"

"No," I said, barely speaking. My eyes were firmly fixed on Jesse's lifeless form.

"One and a half months," he replied. "That's how long. We were unable to locate any relatives of you, Ms. Simon, so we were forced to keep you on life support. Mr De Silva's family, however, live right here in the city, and we were able to ask them their opinions of prolonging Jesse's life. They are beginning to think it might be best to pull the plug."

"No!" I cried, finally finding my voice. "You can't kill Jesse!"

"I'm afraid Jesse's death is his family's concern," Dr. Meducci told me sternly. "Now if you would like a few words with him to say goodbye, I understand-"

"No," I said, firmly. "Because I won't need to say goodbye. He's not going anywhere."

And I turned around and began running down the corridor back the way I came, and down to the lobby.

"Stop!" the doctor yelled. "Somebody stop that girl!"

Many medical assistants reached out to grab my arm, but I dodged all of them delicately. I reached the double doors of the hospital. Cee Cee was standing at the check-in desk, trying to calmly explain who she wished to visit, but her speech was cut short as she caught sight of me.

"Suze! You're alive!"

"And well," I replied. "But I have to go!"

"Where is that important? You're in hospital nightwear!"

"I know exactly where I'm going," I said darkly, beginning to run again. "I'm going to see Paul. I'm going to make him pay for what he's done to Jesse."


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**A/N Thanks to my brand-new beta Moonlight Silhouette. Disclaimer - I do not own this song (neither does Meg Cabot). Actual song credits listed at the bottom.**

_Watch me burn, like a shooting star_

_You never thought I'd get this far_

_Turn to dust in the atmosphere_

_Don't you blink, I might disappear_

_Like a shooting star_

_Watch me disappear, watch me disappear_

"**Like A Shooting Star**"

Vocals and lyrics by Susannah Simon

Demo recorded at See You Later Record Company

Chapter 13

It took me ten shop windows and a million dirty looks to realise how dreadful I looked. But I didn't have time to catch a taxi back to my apartment, or even duck into a bathroom in a department store to comb my hair. I was going to have to strut down Main Street in my hospital nightgown and look proud. I had lives to save, and butts to kick.

My bare feet pounded against the sidewalk, and continued to, even though my soles burned like they were dancing on hot cinders. I was beginning to sweat - huge beads of vapour were appearing on my temples, I could feel them - and was sure I was going to have to sit down, until I saw the large, superficial sign, reading See You Later Records, Slater and sons. I took a deep breath - of both anxiety and for the sake of my lungs - and strode in. I hadn't set foot in this hell-hole for months, and a hospital nightgown would not have usually been my wardrobe of choice for a showdown, but that didn't matter today.

"Paul Slater," I snarled to the receptionist, who looked taken aback by my tone. "Tell him Susannah Simon is here. And its urgent."

The pretty blonde - who was no doubt Paul's latest bit on the side - didn't even bother to question me. She led me upstairs without a word - but with several glances of disgust at my outfit - and showed me a door that read "Studio One". I knew it well. I shooed away the receptionist - the name tag told me she was named Anita - and pushed the door open, heart beating fast, and doubts slowly beginning to creep in. After all, he was a murderer, if the ghost was to be believed.

Paul was sat at the soundboard, headphones resting on his ears, head nodding to the steady boom of whatever R and B hit he was recording. He hadn't even heard me come in. I decided to gather my surroundings before making my presence known. The singer hadn't noticed me either - her eyes were shut hard, and she was wailing for all she was worth.

Paul's leather jacket was haphazardly hung on the back of his swivel chair - it was tan leather, of course, Paul would never be seen dead in black, it was bad for his boy-next-door image - and a large amount of cash was spilling out of his pocket. This was stupid. Anybody could have snuck in and stolen it -

**_I spotted a huge wad of cash in the driver's pocket, and took a large intake of breath. It had been a while since I'd seen that kind of dough._**

**_"Gee, you cab drivers sure make a lot," I said admiringly, and sat back in my seat._**

**_"Uh-huh," was the reply._**

Oh my God. Paul had paid that cab-driver that night. He had paid a man to kill us - Kelly, Jesse and me. We were meant to have died - and he had very nearly succeeded. I was alive - with Jesse in a coma - but what of Kelly? Dr Meducci, PHD, had not even mentioned her. Perhaps this meant she was OK?

At that moment, the singer opened her eyes, and the track finished. Paul took off his earphones and clapped loudly. I froze.

"Wow," Paul said, bored. "Gee Gee, that was truly something. We'll just rewind and take it from the last chorus-"

Gee Gee, who had been bathing in her praise, suddenly tore her gaze from Paul, and spotted me.

"Hey!" she cried. "You're Susannah Simon!"

Paul turned around in horror, but I was already gone from the room, and was sprinting down the stairs - even in my stiff and sore state. I couldn't let Paul catch me - I knew too much. I skidded across the lobby, and out of the doors, ignoring the high-pitched squeak - a voice I was almost sure belonged to Anita - crying "Hey, bitch, we had those floors mopped this morning!".

I welcomed the hot air and angry buzz of sirens and swearing cab drivers as I burst out onto Manhattan Main Street. But before I could bathe in it, I had to get moving. Who knew how long it would take Paul to come running after me?

The light suddenly turned red in front of me, and there was a free pedestrian crossing. I ran to the black and white stripes, and just happened to notice the driver of the first car to stop. She was pretty, I saw, as I crossed. Olivey skin, long dark curly hair. She looked kind of familiar...

"Hey, wait!" I cried, stationary on a pedestrian crossing - which is never a good idea. I ran back to the first car. "Marta?"

"Get away from my car, crazy girl!" squealed Marta, starting to wind up her window, and moving to put her foot on the gas. "You belong in a hospital!"

"Its Suze, Marta!" I yelled through the glass. "Susannah? Jesse's er..." For want of a better word, I replied: "Girlfriend?"

A look of recognition dawned on Marta's face, just as the light turned green again. A car went speeding past me on my right, the wheel narrowly missing my ankle. I banged on the window.

"Let me in!" I said urgently, as Marta had an expression of utter panic on her face as the catcalls from angry drivers behind her grew louder. She opened the car door, and I slid in, just as Marta stepped on the gas.

"How did you know I was Marta?" she asked in surprise, once I'd gained my breath back, and Marta had stopped cursing hurriedly in Spanish. "I could have been anyone - it was me who met you, and not the other way around. You were unconscious!"

"Dark hair, olive skin?" I replied. "Of course you were a De Silva. Besides, you look just like Conchita. And you remember somebody when they steal your pants."

Marta laughed. "I apologize again for my sisters," she said.

"Its OK," I answered. "But I need to ask you a favour." Marta's expression was neutral, so I decided to take the plunge. "Its about Jesse."

Marta's whole face went white, and she swung into a parking space in front of Macy's. She looked in shock. I guess she'd been trying to forget about the state of her brother.

"Fine," she said. "I guess we do need to talk."

* * *

We both sipped coffee in silence, waiting for the other to speak.

Marta had driven us back to the De Silva house in the suburbs, where I had been offered clothing, and a place to stay. I had accepted both readily, and Marta switched the kettle on as I dressed. Then we both met in the lounge, for the discussion we'd both been dreading.

"Have you seen him?" asked Marta, suddenly, putting down her beverage. "In the ... hospital?"

"Yes," I replied, quietly, and took another sip. "He was all... white. Stiff as a board. He looked almost dead."

"Ssh!" urged Marta, and I jumped. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "Its just Conchita and Abegail don't yet know the severity of Jesse's condition. We're trying to dilute it for them."

I nodded. "Of course. I'm sorry."

There was an awkward silence, where both of us sipped our drinks timidly, before I spoke again.

"You can't switch it off, Marta."

Marta looked up, eyes sparkling with tears. "I know," she replied, her voice shaking. "He's my brother, Susannah. I love him with all my heart. I can't just let him go like that. But on the other hand - how can I just prolong his life? If its time for him to go, its time for him to go."

"Now is not his time," I said, firmly. "He's like this because of Paul Slater."

"Who?" asked Marta.

"Never mind," I said, and I took another sip, draining my mug.

Marta did the same, then stood up and took my mug from me. "We're visiting Jesse this afternoon," she said. "For Mercedes' sake. She's been away on a roadtrip. It will be the first time she's seen Jesse. Would you like to come with us?"

"I don't want to interrupt," I replied, but Marta shook her head.

"You wouldn't be," she told me. "I know you love Jesse as much as we do. You're welcome."

"I never got the chance to tell Jesse how I feel," I whispered miserably. "Before... before..."

Marta crouched before me, as I wiped away a tear. "Then today is the day you tell him," she said. "You never know, it could work wonders."

I nodded, standing up. "Give me ten minutes?" I asked. Marta smiled.

"Oh, it will take longer than that to round up Conchita and Abegail, don't you worry."

* * *

"We're here to visit Jesse De Silva, in the intensive care unit," Marta told reception clearly.

The receptionist nodded. "I assume you know the way?"

"By heart," replied Marta, and we followed her, Conchita's sticky hand grasping my own tightly. We traipsed up various flights of stairs, until the corridors became less busy, and finally we trotted down that long corridor I knew to be the Intensive Care Unit. At the very end, Marta called us all to a standstill.

"Susannah," she said. "You go in first." I shook my head, but she encouraged me. "Please," she continued. "Its important."

I gave Conchita to Mercedes, who began to happily sing songs to her, and crossed my fingers as I pushed the door open. I closed it behind me, muting the sound of Abegail's wailing, and Mercedes' singing. Inside Jesse's ward, it was silent. I knelt by the side of his bed, and took his hand.

"Oh, Jesse," I whispered. "How did we get like this?"

I listened for a while to the steady breathing, and kissed his fingers.

"I know that you probably can't hear this," I carried on. "I know that when I was in a coma, I didn't recall anything anybody said. I just had the strangest dream-" I laughed, the giggle bouncing back at me from the white walls. "Though, I guess it was a memory." I stood up, nervously. "But I need you to know, Jesse De Silva, that... that I, Susannah Simon-"

At that point, the door was pushed open, and a nurse came bustling in with clean towels and a glass of water. She put the glass of water on Jesse's nightstand, and put the towels in the closet in the far corner, with a sad smile to me.

"Just in case he wakes up," she told me.

"He will!" I replied firmly. She nodded comfortingly, then bustled out again. The eerie silence of the ward hit me hard once more, and I returned to my kneeling position.

I played with Jesse's fingers as I pondered over my next words.

"I... Susannah Simon, just want to say..."

I looked at his rising chest, and his almost pale cheeks, and sighed.

"That I love you, Jesse De Silva. I love everything about you. I love that you always want to be the hero, that you always put other people before you-" I took a breath. "And that you were the one who saw through Paul first." I laid another kiss on his fingers. "You need to wake up, Jesse. You have sisters who love you out there - who need you. And I need you, Jesse, I need you. So just wake up soon, OK?"

I stood up again, my knees nearly knocking together, and I leaned in to kiss Jesse on his frozen lips - just gently. But when he didn't retaliate, I moved away, and started towards the door.

"Hm... mm... Susannah..."

I spun around quickly, to see Jesse wriggle his fingers in confusion, and feel his duvet, unsure of his surroundings. I reached for the door handle, and called to his sisters, then sprinted to his bedside.

"Jesse!" I cried, and I took his delicate face in my hands and kissed it, overjoyed. "Oh Jesse, Jesse, Jesse!"

The five De Silva sisters poured in, and we circled his bed excitedly.

"Oh Jesse," I breathed, not yet letting go of his fingers. "Its so good to see you alive."

"Its good to be alive," was his reply, and he smiled warmly. I grinned back.

"I'd better go and call a doctor," I said, standing up, and I steadied myself. I finally released Jesse's hand, and laughed, wiping happy tears away from the corner of my eye.

"Querida," he called, before I had got just a few centimetres away.

"Yes?" I asked, while the De Silva girls chattered away happily.

Jesse's face broke into an adorable smile. "I love you too."

**"Like A Shooting Star"**

Vocals by Lindsay Robbins

From the album, **_Songs from Instant Star, Vol 3_**


	14. Chapter Fourteen

_Na na na na_

_Most wanted, reward on my head_

_Na na na na_

_A former has-been, alive or dead_

_Na na na na_

_'Bout yay tall, green eyes_

_First one to find me gets the prize_

_Na na na na_

_Most wanted, most wanted_

**_"Most Wanted"_**

**Lyrics and Vocals by Susannah Simon**

Chapter 14

"You ran away?"

The old Jesse was back, his obvious disdain for my rebellion proved this much to me.

"You ran away from a hospital?"

All I could do was nod, and squeeze his hand. He was getting better, getting his strength back. I was the most consistent visitor, with Marta and the rest of the De Silvas a close second. Even if Jesse had wanted to be left alone, he wouldn't have gotten the peace.

Jesse sat up, and took a sip from the glass of water at his bedside, then took my hand in both of his, looking deep in my eyes. I thought he was about to say something wonderful, something romantic... I could feel it...

"Is Kelly OK?"

Or not.

With a pang of guilt, I realised that I hadn't been to check on Kelly. I didn't even know whether she was still in the hospital. She could have woken up before me, and been released... but she looked in pretty bad shape after the crash, I remembered...

"Um," I said, uneasily. "I... I don't know. I was too busy seeing if you were OK, I completely forgot-"

"Then go," Jesse urged me. "Try and find her. I'm fine, Susannah, you know I am."

So I left his side, unwillingly, and slid out of the room in silence. Where should I start looking first? Should I go back to reception, and tell them Kelly's name, or should I just go prying about in the Intensive Care Unit?

What if Kelly's relatives had turned off life support?

Not looking where I was going, I suddenly collided with a bulky mass, and had to stretch a hand to the wall to steady myself. I looked up to see who or what I had collided with, and found myself staring up into two sapphires.

"Why, I'm sorry, Miss."

He was Texan! I loved Texan people - my own grandmother had been Texan. The accent made me laugh, though I had to stifle it so as not to seem rude.

"It's no problem," I replied, now examining the man's friendly smile. "I'm Susannah Simon. What's your name?"

"I'm Jackson Howard," he said with a grin. "But I like to be called Jack."

"Hi Jack," I said, shaking the large hand he had thust out for me to take. "Who are you visiting?"

"My girlfriend," he answered, looking a little sad. "Car accident. Still a little traumatised after the shock. Won't respond to anyone. The doctors say it won't be permanent though."

"That's good." A thought suddenly hit me. "What room is she in, Jack?"

"That one." He pointed to a room a few doors down from where we had collided.

"Thanks," I replied, patting his shoulder, kindly. "Don't worry," I continued. "She'll be fine."

I waited for Jack to start down the stairs, and then followed his directions to ward no. 5. Pushing the door open, I saw a small, slight girl sat cross-legged on the bed, rocking backwards and fowards.

"Hello, Kelly," I said.

She stopped rocking, and turned her nervous head to me with a jerk. Her long, blonde hair was matted, and stuck to her forehead. A few cuts and bruises remained on her otherwise perfect face, and her eyes were lacking mascara and larger than ever.

"S...S..." Kelly attempted, but shook her head in frustration, pounding the shallow mattress beneath her in agony.

"Its O.K," I whispered, and I sat on the bed beside her calmly. "Kelly, is Jack your boyfriend?"

Kelly's head gave another worried twitch, which I took to mean a yes. I took her cold hand, which she did not choose to pull away from me.

"Even though you were with Paul?"

She just looked at me, with her penetrating eyes, which were filled with sadness. Something told me she had tried to get out of the relationship with Paul a long time ago. Gone was the Kelly I thought I knew - and despised deeply - and here was the real Kelly - the frightened, insecure girl, who had morals. I felt an ache of sadness for her, as she sat before me, shivering.

"Its OK," I said again, standing up. "I'm going to get Paul for what he's done to you. And to that other girl. You're safe here in the hospital, Kel. I'll be back to see you soon."

This last sentence may have been a lie, I realised, as I left Kelly in her room by herself. I was going to avenge what had happened to Kelly, and to me, and to Jesse, but I didn't know if I would succeed - nor, did I know if I was coming back. I was just going to have to have confidence - a trait that very rarely occured in my existence.

* * *

"See You Later Recording Studios," I told the cab driver, sternly. "And if you try anything, I've got a gun." 

Another lie, yes, but the cabbie didn't need to know. He started to drive - nervously, and I don't blame him - and I sank back into the seat. I was so tired - I hadn't slept in over two days.

Insomnia was keeping me awake. I was just lying there, planning out my revenge on Paul Slater, erasing every idea as soon as it came to me. Too dangerous, too foolproof, too kind... until last night, the most daring yet stupid plan came to me.

Just wing it.

I won't deny that my blood was pumping faster than ever before - faster than it ever had. My heart was beating quicker than when Paul had proposed to me, and I had accepted, of course - not knowing then that he was in fact married to somebody else.

The cab came to a stop, twenty minutes later, in front of the large, mostly glass building I knew so well. The large lettering, reading "See You Later Recording Studios - Rick Slater and Sons" hit me as soon as I had gotten out of the car. I handed my money to the driver with a smile, and he left the sidewalk hurriedly, afraid I was going to pull my gun on him anyway.

Taking a large breath, I started inside. The large, marble entrance hall gleamed and sparkled spectacularly, and I saw the janitor in the corner, wiping sweat from his forehead. The Slaters were obviously expecting important company.

I strode up to the reception desk, and spoke clearly.

"I'm here to see Paul Slater."

It was still the disgruntled Anita manning the desk, a pen behind one studded ear, and the ever-pleasing scowl splattered across her face.

"Miss Simon."

"Its Ms," I corrected her, to her obvious annoyance.

"Whatever," she replied, and she led me - like before - to Studio One. I was surprised to see nobody objected to me this time around, but didn't particularly mind. It just made my job easier.

Anita knocked on the door to Studio One, and warned Paul, loudly.

"Paul, there's something - sorry, someone - to see you."

Then she went, scurrying away in her high stilleto heels, and out of sight, before the handle to the door had even twitched.

The door did open, however, and I was met by a recognisable sneer.

"Susannah Simon," the cold voice said, calmly. "I've been expecting you."


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen 

"No skanky hip-hop wannabe to please you this time around, Paul?" I asked, coldly. "You must be so disappointed."

"I'd be quiet if I were you, Simon," Paul replied, smoothly. "Seeing as now you know what I'm capable of."

"You don't scare me, Paul Slater," I said, closing the door - a decision that proved to be unwise - behind me, and walking into the studip further. "In fact, I think you were more threatening when you were an innocent teenage boy, back in the day. Hmm, I wonder what your father would say now if he knew what you had done. What was it, again? Three attempted murders, and one actual murder? Or have you been expanding your collection?"

"If that's what you want to believe, go ahead," muttered Paul, and he took a step closer to me. "But why do you think we have to mop the floors everyday in the lobby?"

My mouth dropped, but I regained focus. "Liar," I spat. "You're just trying to scare me."

"But is it working?" Paul's smirk was so annoying I just had to relieve myself by reaching fowards and slapping his soft cheek hard. He grabbed my hand and twisted it behind my back.

"Oh no, little Suzy," he whispered in my ear. "Hasn't Mommy ever told you how to play nice with all the little children?"

He spun me around so that he was barracading the door, and headbutted me. I went flying to the floor, and lay sprawled out in an agonising position, wincing.

"Not so hard to take me on when I get going, is it?" he asked me, and he put a knee either side of me and sat on me so I couldn't move, and he slapped me, hard. "You know what the trouble is with you meddling bitches? You don't know when - to - stop." He accompanied each of the last three syllables with a blow to my head. I began to feel a little dizzy.

"Its the same with all of you. Marissa - I'm sure you've uncovered her by now - she was in love. Prepared to be the loving housewife. And then she discovered bank statements - I wasn't doing too well with money at the time, despite what she thought- and emails from Kelly, emails from you, emails from Penelope... she's dead too, by the way - "tragic boating accident". And she went beserk. Starting attacking me, the crazy bitch. There wasn't really much I could do. And then she fell down the stairs."

"Fell," I scoffed. "Likely story. She was pushed, more like."

"Here we go again," taunted Paul. "Sticking your nose where it doesn't concern you. We're over, Suze. Don't you get that? So why are you still here?"

"Um, hello?" I said, trying to wriggle free of Paul's grasp whilst protesting. "You're the one who got back into my life - by trying to kill me, remember?"

"Ah, see that cab was never meant for you," said Paul, conversationally. "It was only meant for Kelly. She was getting in the way, and I wanted someone else - you know Anita? Yeah, she's amazing between the sheets. Kelly's just getting old."

"Well then break up with her," I suggested, disgusted at Paul's comment. "Instead of killing her!"

"Nah," he replied. "When they're dead, they don't go calling you and following you around like a bad smell, begging you to get back with them."

"I'm sure Kelly wouldn't have done that," I said, managing to get one leg free without noticing. "She's got a whole other life besides from the one with you. One she might have been able to lead if you hadn't had traumatised her in the car crash."

I was trying to drag my leg across the floor and away from Paul without him noticing, and I was attempting to keep him distracted with conversation. This plan, however, did not succeed.

"Ah-ah-ah..." sang Paul, and he tutted, laying a strong hand on my escaping leg. "It wasn't ever going to be that easy, Suzy-pie." He pulled my leg closer to him, and raised it in the air, twisting it until the bone snapped and I writhed in pain. He let my leg drop to the floor, broken.

Paul climbed off me and stood up, brushing his hands. "Now I've got you where I want you," he said, devilishly. "I can decide how you're going to die..." He dug into his pockets, and pulled out a rope. "Railway accident?" he asked, twirling the rope around his brown fingers. "Or..." He fished around in his pockets again, and pulled an impressive-looking, shiny, silver gun. "Suicide? It would be believable, the way your career is going..." He pointed the gun at me, threateningly. "What do you think?"

"I think you'd better calm down," I said, as my hands began to shake. "Just put it down, and we can sort this out." Paul threw his head back and laughed.

"Of course you want to sort it out, now I've got a gun," he snarled. "Anything can be sorted out when you've got a gun, I've found."

"Paul, come here, and we can talk," I replied, and was surprised at how calm my voice sounded - a contrast to how I felt on the inside. Paul took a tentative step towards me and I saw his hands tremble on the gun. I sat up, keeping eye-contact with him at the same time. When he got close enough, I raised my good leg, and kicked the gun out of his gun and it went flying through the air, and a gunshot rang through the silence, setting my nerves on fire. The bullet had made a hole in the wall opposite me. The gun had slipped underneath a cabinet.

Paul was turning slowly purple. "You tricked me!" he cried. "You told me we could sort this out!"

"And we can," I replied, slightly more relaxed now there was no gun. "Just without the gun! Come here." Paul knelt down at the spot I had allocated, but instead dealt my mouth a punch causing a bruise that I knew would take a whole load of Clinique to cover up. And that made me mad.

"Hey!" I yelled, furiously spitting out blood - and to my horror, a tooth. "That -is - gonna - bruise!" I tried to stand up, but my crippled leg kept me on the floor. Paul leapt on the floor beside me, and showed me the latest instrument he had drawn from his trousers. It was long, and silver, and the light reflected into my eyes, making me squint.

"I've come to a decision," he growled, dangling the point in my face. "Freak accident - involving a knife. Looking foward to meeting your end?"

Before I could answer, the door to Studio One was kicked in, and I could see the figures standing in the doorway, coming valiantly to rescue me. It was Kelly, and Jesse.

"I can't wait," said Jesse.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**_A/N_ I don't own any of the characters from Meg Cabot's Mediator series, only the minor characters created for this chapter. Please read and review - thanks to those who have,**

_Fly in with your cape so red_

_And show me all your tricks_

_'Coz I need a hero to sweep me up_

_Now let me take my pick_

_"**Hero**"_

**Written by Simon/Prescott**

Chapter 16

"Jesse," I breathed, and Paul dropped his knife inches away from my cheek. I sighed in relief, but remained still as Paul got to his feet and confronted the intruders.

"Well, well, well..." said Paul, and I wanted was for Jesse to wipe that stupid smirk off his face, but I feared for Kelly and Jesse's safety, now I knew what Paul was capable of. "Who would have thought Kelly Prescott would be in cahoots with Jesse De Silva?" He glanced at me. "Looks like you got competition, Suze."

I sat up, spitting out yet more blood in Paul's direction. "Oh, I'm worried," I told him. "Because in case you haven't noticed, it's three to one." Paul snatched the knife from the floor beside him and thrust it in my face, causing me to take a sharp intake of breath.

"Oh no you don't," growled (yes, growled) Jesse, and he lunged, knocking Paul horizontal and sending the knife through the air and landing on its point in one of fingers. I roared out in pain, but thank God it wasn't any of my other more important appendages. I dislodged the blood-splattered knife from my finger and tossed it aside in disgust. My attentions were turned to Jesse and Paul, who were tied up in a deadly wrestle, Jesse sporting a fat lip, and Paul's mouth looking kinda bloody. I leapt to my feet and Kelly took my hands to support me.

"What should we do?" I hissed, as I watched in delight as Jesse dealt Paul a hard blow to the head. Kelly squeezed my hand in apprehension. I guess the situation had completely blown away our differences.

"Phone the police," whispered Kelly, and she dug into her pocket to retrieve her cell phone.

"No!" cried Paul, and he heaved Jesse off him, and sprung at Kelly, and the pair fell through the wooden door as Jesse lay in a heap by the radiator. I was torn as to who to attend to first, but couldn't make my decision quick enough as Paul grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the mix. I landed on the marble corridor with a thunk, and my head started spinning. I felt my forehead and found to my horror I was dripping with red, sticky blood. Paul slipped something around my throat and I choked, feeling a rope burn around my jugular. I grasped at it with my fingernails, trying to avoid it closing my throat completely, trying to yell out to Jesse or Kelly to help me. My eyes were watering and my throat was drying up with a burning sensation around my neck.

Then suddenly I was relieved, and I fell to the floor, my heart hammering, my fingers still at my throat. The rope fell limp in my hands and I saw Paul crouch beside me, wincing. Kelly was stood behind him, still holding a piece of the broken door triumphantly. I could almost see an egg-sized lump forming on the back of Paul's head, but I couldn't help but laugh at Kelly's expression.

"What?" she asked, innocently, dropping the wood. "You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that." Paul collapsed with a groan, too injured to retaliate - something I was grateful for. I heard Jesse stir from the corner and ran to him at once. I had almost forgotten him. Kelly collected her cell from where it had been thrown halfway down the corridor, and I lifted Jesse's head onto my lap.

"It's broken," declared Kelly, holding up her dented phone. "It won't even turn on."

"I... got one.." murmured Jesse, and I rummaged in his pockets and threw the cell to Kelly, who began immediately to dial 911. I turned back to Jesse, who becoming more and more conscious as the seconds progressed.

"Jesse," I whispered, hands either side of his skull, protectively. I saw him smile, and slip back into a dozy state. I leaned in and kissed him on the forehead. "It's O.K," I told him. "The paramedics will be here soon, and you'll have another round of being hospitalized to look foward to." He grunted, in an un-Jesse-like manner, and I laughed, wrapping my little finger around one of his longer curls.

"You really like him, don't you?" asked Kelly, though there was no envy in her tone. "And I can tell he's crazy about you." I grinned.

"I really do," I admitted. "So, how are you doing? Last time I saw you it was only, like, an hour ago, and you were still babbling."

"I just snapped out of it. Jack came back in - he'd forgotten the Hershey's he'd bought me - and he said about you kinda rushing off, and given the conversation we had just had I knew exactly where you'd gone. And then I guess I was so scared that I just had to tell him we needed help and my speech came back." Kelly looked confused. "Don't question it. I don't get medical stuff." I laughed. "But anyway, Jack had to help both me and Jesse out of the hospital so that we could come and get you..." she trailed off. "It was some really lame and cheesy - but still entertaining - made-for-TV movie. A good one."

I smiled again. It was amazing how one person - namely Paul - could bring such deadly enemies together. I guess we'd both been hurt by Paul. But we were over it now. Kelly had Jack, and I had Jesse. I would always have Jesse.

* * *

"He's out cold," muttered the paramedic that greeted us in Studio One twenty minutes later, checking out Paul. "What happened?" 

"Paul happened," replied Kelly, disgustedly. She turned on the charm for the cop beside her. Good old Kelly. "Officer, it was self-defence. I mean, look at what he was doing to Suze. Show him, Suze." I put foward my neck for expection, which was now sporting a nasty rope burn. My voice still wasn't as smooth as it was. Bye-bye, singing career.

"We'll need to talk to you two ladies," said the officer, sternly, though he looked a little less suspicious when he saw my burn. "And them-" He gestured towards Jesse and Paul. "-when they wake up. But get cleaned up by these guys first." He nodded towards the paramedics. We nodded, exchanging worried glances. It might be harder to prove Paul guilty than we thought. "Mind you," the officer added in a low voice. "I always thought this Slater guy was a bit dodgy."

That made us feel a little better.

Our various cuts and bruises and burns were treated accordingly, and after much cringing and wincing and hissing... we were good to go and tell our stories to the police. We didn't need to check our tale with each other. We'd both agreed to own up to whatever violence we had participated in, whether it was in self-defence or not. I had a few savings. Cee Cee could use that to bail me out if I was locked up, God forbid.

"So you went to confront Mr. Slater about his alledged attacks on Mr. De Silva and Miss Prescott?" asked my appointed officer, who was named, and I kid you not, Artemis.

"No," I corrected Artemis. "I confronted Paul because he had organized a car crash to try and kill Kelly, which had ended up injuring her aswell as Jesse and I. He didn't actually attack us, himself."

"Can you confirm the name of the cab driver that night?" he said.

"Um..." I thought back to the sign he had hung in the inside of his cab_. My name is Jon, and I'll be your cab driver today_. It was lame, but I told Artemis, anyway, who nodded.

"We pulled in a guy of that name on Tuesday," he said. "Drink-driving, the idiot. But he matches the description your friend Miss Prescott gave."

I was finally released, and there were no charges pressed against me. I was clear, any fighting I had done was to protect myself, they had decided. I was free. And now it was time to celebrate.


	17. Epilogue

**A/N Thanks to all those who have reviewed throughout the whole of this fic. I'm eternally grateful, but now this story has come to an end. I guess my enthusiasm has dropped after the low amount of reviews per chapter, and also I think Suze's story was bound to finish soon after Paul was locked up. I hope you enjoy this epilogue. I've loved this story, and will always be proud of it. After all, it took me a year to write!**

_I wanted so many things_

_And I pushed them all away_

_But if you hadn't crawled right back_

_I would not be here today_

_You're my hero_

_Hero, hero_

_You're my hero_

_Come and save me_

"_**Hero – Revised Version**__"_

From the triple platinum album _**"Susannah"**_

Lyrics by Susannah Simon

Vocals by Susannah Simon

Prescott Productions

For Jesse.

_**Six Months Later**_

"And now, if you would all raise your glasses to the bride and groom."

I smiled, and raised my glass.

"To Kelly and Jackson," I said, addressing the guests. "The bride and groom."

"Kelly and Jackson," the crowd echoed. "The bride and groom."

I took a sip from my own glass, and sat down. That was a load off. I had been dreading my maid of honour speech since Kelly had asked me. Now I could relax and enjoy the rest of the wedding with my boyfriend.

It had been a gorgeous ceremony. I had barely recognised Kelly – the sluttish skunk from high school – as she had glided down the aisle, arm-in-arm with her father. She was dressed all in white, a sleeveless wedding dress and perfect satin shoes, and her golden hair was piled up in curls on the top of her head. She had selected only the best pearls to be slung around her neck, and her engagement ring sparkled in the mid-afternoon sun as it poured in through the stained-glass windows.

I only knew such details of her wedding attire because she had dragged me in over a hundred wedding shops to decide. A day like that is going to stay in your mind.

But I didn't mind. Kelly had become one of my best friends since that fateful day over six months ago. Jesse had been released fairly quickly after he had woken up (he was not pleased to be in hospital yet again) but Paul hadn't been so lucky. He had been found guilty of a total of four murders, as well as several cases of attempted murder. On top of this, blackmail and fraud were added to the list. That was enough to send him to jail for life. He was one part of my past I was keen to forget about.

"May I have this dance?" came a deep voice in my ear, and his voice thrilled me down to the tip of toes. I turned around and put my fingers into his hand.

"Of course you may," I replied, and Jesse led me onto the dance floor to join Kelly and Jackson, and Cee-Cee and Adam, who had also been invited. It took a lot of persuading for Cee-Cee to see the light, but Adam worked on her. God bless Adam. My saviour. A now pregnant Cee-Cee isn't too easy to deal with these days.

I slipped my – very tanned, after a holiday with Jesse in Hawaii – arms around his neck and put my head on his chest so that I could hear his heart beating. He was so warm, so welcoming… he put his head in my hair and we swayed to the beat. Slow-dancing had never been one of Jesse's more defined talents, but after months of practising – I had been warned by Kelly that if it was my boyfriend ruining the dance floor, she would never talk to me again. I had told her that it would never be my boyfriend who messed up the dance floor….

But it might be my fiancé.

I admired my ring in the dazzling light reflecting from the disco ball. The too-perfect moment had happened only weeks after Paul had been jailed for life. I had asked Jesse to help me redecorate my apartment – I was into a whole new-me phase – but what I thought was meant to be a DIY fest turned out to be so much more.

_**"Hey," Jesse said, as he unlocked the front door to my apartment. "I come bearing doughnuts." I grinned as he bent down to kiss me gently on the lips.**_

_**"My hero," I said, and I took the box off him and set them down on the counter. "Coffee?"**_

_**"Sure," he replied, and he picked up a thin brush from the packet lying on a stray chair. "How could anybody think you would get far with this?" he asked, twirling it in his fingers. "I mean, look at the size of this room. And then look at this paintbrush."**_

_**I laughed, and handed him a steaming mug of coffee. "It's for fine detail, stupid," I told him, and a look of understanding spread across Jesse's handsome face. **_

_**"Fine detail?" he repeated, dipping the brush into an open tub of paint. "Like… this?"**_

_**He flicked the brush, leaving dots of yellow paint scattered across my nose, like freckles. I just stood there, gawping, not quite being able to believe what he had just done. "Oh my God," was all I could stutter. I grabbed a larger brush from the packet and dunked it into the tub. Then I shoved it right in Jesse's face, leaving him with a very yellow T-zone. **_

_**"Hey!" he cried, and I shrugged. Jesse took the whole tub of yellow paint in his two hands, and turned it completely upside down. I shut my mouth and eyes just in time, and was suddenly drenched in paint, screaming. "Oh, my God!" I said again, and I flicked the wet liquid out of my ears so I could hear Jesse laughing. "I feel like a tulip!"**_

_**"But a very, **_**very **_**pretty tulip," Jesse remarked, and he bent down to kiss me, as if that made everything O.K. He straightened, and it was very amusing to see Jesse with sunshine-yellow lips. I sniggered.**_

_**"Was my kiss that funny?" he asked, and I shook my head, reaching for a tub of green paint.**_

_**"No," I replied, stretching a hand around Jesse's neck so I could reach the paint I had lifted behind his head with my other hand. "But this is hilarious."**_

_**I released the tub and stepped backwards, watching in delight as Jesse was swamped by bottle-green paint (don't ask me what that colour was even doing in my house).**_

_**"Right, you've done it now," he said, and he charged at me, knocking me to the floor – gently, of course – and the two of us lay in a sea of green paint. Jesse hoisted himself up on his elbows, and I was very content with the 180 pounds of man lying on top of me, until he spoke again. "I'm the winner."**_

_**"Says who?" I asked, pushing him off me and sitting up. "And of what?"**_

_**"OK then," began Jesse and he sat up to face me. "Let's have a wrestle."**_

_**"In paint?" I snorted, but Jesse was intent. I stuck out my chin. "Fine. What's the prize?"**_

_**"If you win," Jesse replied. "Then I'll make dinner for the rest of the month." Sounded good to me. "But if I win… then you have to marry me, Susannah Simon."**_

_**My breath caught in my throat. He wanted me to marry him?**_

_**"You got yourself a deal," I told him, and we shook hands. Climbing to our knees, I was back on the ground, with Jesse sat on top of me.**_

_**"Do you want me to count the seconds?" he asked, and I pulled his head closer to me by yanking his collar.**_

_**"Of course not, fiancé," I replied, and proceeded to kiss him deeply.**_

I noticed – as Jesse finished the dance and went to find us some drinks - that Maria – Jesse's red herring that was never actually used – was in the corner with my stepbrother, Brad. Brad had dated Kelly's best friend in high school, who wasn't actually present at the wedding. It was funny how people found each other like that. I couldn't think of a better matched couple than snooty Maria and superficial Brad.

So now, I think, that's all bases covered. The young girl in this fairytale met her handsome prince, conquered the bad guy, and lived happily ever after…

That's the lamest ending in history, but it kind of fits for this story. My newest album was recorded at See You Later Recording Studios… after Kelly took over and renamed the company Prescott Productions. It sold millions within its first day, and I hit the charts once again, doing the thing I loved. I made enough money to live in luxury a hundred lifetimes over, but that wasn't important to me anymore.

What was important was that I happy. My best friend had gotten married, and the ceremony and after-party was awesome, the best in the world.

Well, until mine. Because what could beat Jesse in a tux, saying "I do"?

And the seconds were just ticking away until the wedding night.

THE END.


End file.
